


Pulp Fables

by Yao



Category: Nursery Rhymes & Songs, Pulp Fiction
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-28
Updated: 2013-05-28
Packaged: 2017-12-13 06:20:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/821041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yao/pseuds/Yao
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'm just saying, there was a farmer in Belgium who had a dog. You want the man's name?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pulp Fables

INT. '74 CHEVY (MOVING), EARLY MORNING

Jules wears his standard issue black suit, white shirt and skinny black tie, retrieved when the boys stopped at his apartment to pick up his car. Vincent wears the UC Santa Cruz t-shirt and swim trunks, borrowed from Jimmie's house. Jules is driving through Inglewood.

VINCENT  
Man, the Wolf is a piece of work. How much you think he gets paid to make things disappear?

JULES  
I get paid enough that I'm not even curious about a question like that.

VINCENT  
Seriously, though, how do you think you get into that line of business? Is there some sort of fucking cleaner college you can go to?

JULES  
How did they handle this sort of thing when you was in Europe?

VINCENT  
That wasn't precisely my line of work when I was over there.

JULES  
Yeah, but you must know a guy who knows a motherfucker and all that.

VINCENT  
Okay, I knew a guy. He was a farmer.

JULES  
This was in Amsterdam?

VINCENT  
No, man! You can't fucking farm in Amsterdam. Too many people around and shit. This was in Belgium.

JULES  
Belgium... (savoring the sound of the word)

VINCENT  
So this farmer, he had a dog, and

JULES (Cutting him off)  
What was his name?

VINCENT  
The fuck does it matter what his name was? I'm just saying, there was a farmer in Belgium who had a dog. You want the man's name?

JULES  
No, the dog's name. What's the name of the dog?

VINCENT  
Why does it matter what the fucking dog is named? You wanna let me tell the story?

JULES  
I apologize for interupting your fascinating story. Based on our past experiences together, I anticipate that this will be a story that I'll enjoy telling in the future, perhaps imparting your recieved wisdom to the next worthy motherfucker. And in the hopes of making that story as enjoyable as possible, I thought I would seek some of the colorful details that add to the verisimilitude of the story. So I repeat: what was the name of the dog?

VINCENT  
Bingo.

JULES  
Bingo? B-I-N-G-O?

VINCENT  
B-I-N-G-O.

JULES  
B-I-N-G-O? Bingo was his name? O man, those Belgians got a fucked up sense of humor.

VINCENT  
Man, you don't know the half of it. You bring a body to this guy, and he chops it up with an axe, feeds the pieces to the dog.

JULES  
Shit...

VINCENT  
His wife would get in on it, too. She had a carving knife, was always chopping the tail off of something.

JULES  
I'm gonna stick to LA, thank you very much. These European cats, that's some unpredictable shit.

THEY PASS THE NEON SIGN OF A STRIP CLUB, "MISS MUFFET'S"

VINCENT  
Pull in here, will ya? I could do with some curds and whey.

END SCENE


End file.
